


Eclipse

by Amarie



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Ambiguous/Open Ending, M/M, Soulmates, Werewolves, Wordcount: 100-500
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-24
Updated: 2016-10-24
Packaged: 2018-08-24 08:53:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8366062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amarie/pseuds/Amarie
Summary: The noise, that's what struck Stiles the moment he entered Eclipse. The thump, thump, thump of synthesized base loud enough to set his teeth on edge and rattle his bones.He shouldered his way through the sea of euphoric twenty-somethings, all loose-limbed and sharp-elbowed, and hesitated at the bar, watching the bartender's neck as he reached for a top-shelf bottle—God. Stiles thought he was as prepared as he could be, but now he wasn't so sure. In a whisper he said: You can do this.Then: Failure is not an option.





	

The noise, that's what struck Stiles the moment he entered Eclipse. The _thump, thump, thump_ of synthesized base loud enough to set his teeth on edge and rattle his bones.

He shouldered his way through the sea of euphoric twenty-somethings, all loose-limbed and sharp-elbowed, and hesitated at the bar, watching the bartender's neck as he reached for a top-shelf bottle _—God._ Stiles thought he was as prepared as he could be, but now he wasn't so sure. 

In a whisper he said: You can do this.

Then: Failure is not an option.

He licked his cool lips, armed himself with courage, and rapped his knuckles on the bar. The bartender, dressed in a soft white v-neck and fitted designer jeans, had his back to Stiles, but his head canted almost imperceptibly, and _oh_ , for the first time in weeks, Stiles longed to sate more than hunger.

With a sigh, he dug his cell phone out of his back pocket, sat down on one of the few empty bar stools, and scrolled through his phone. 

Twenty-four missed calls.

Sixty unread texts.

"You are too fucking cute," someone said over the cacophony of dancing, talking, laughing. "Can I buy you a drink?"

Stiles turned, pocketing his phone. 

The guy’s damp, blonde hair clung to his sun-beaten forehead in lank patches and he stared at Stiles' mouth with wide, glassy eyes, casually slinging an arm over Stiles' shoulder. The stench of stale cigarettes, energy drinks and cheap vodka tickled Stiles' sensitive nose, and a smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

He opened his mouth to accept when a live wire struck his wrist. A jolt so powerful it could jumpstart his heart, fire pinged off his every nerve-ending, and Stiles' amber-colored eyes shot to the bartenders: electric blue, with a predators keen focus.

The hand on his wrist tightened and Stiles froze, eyes wide and startled. The blonde’s arm slipped off his shoulder, forgotten, as Stiles stared into the burning gaze of his soulmate.


End file.
